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I drove my wife’s car on this cool Wednesday. I enjoy my truck but it doesn’t have one of the greatest inventions in the history of humankind; heated seats. With the flip of a button, the warmth of coils embedded in the chairs begins to make its way to my shoulders, back and posterior. Its one of those luxuries you don’t realize you “need” it until you use it.

As the heat of the car and the seats began to permeate my body, and ever thinning hairline, I thought about the creature comforts of life. Where do we draw the line at things which we need versus things we like. A roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food on a table are things which we need, can’t live without. Television, internet (yes, even the internet), automobiles, computers, phones, and a host of other “things we think we can’t live without.”

Wisdom has a way of winnowing our list of life-items showing us what we truly need, simplifying and emphasizing what’s important and what’s not.

My friend, role-model, and father passed away early this morning a little after midnight. His fight was over and he was ready. He sat up one last time as if to say, “It’s my time. I’m coming home.”

The house seemed empty today when we returned from all the breathless running around one does after a loved one takes their final breath. Even though he hasn’t been home in a few weeks it seemed he had just left the house. Keys, hats, computers, movies, his chair all still in their proper place. It seems this is still his house, his home. But…it’s not. Sure, there are memories and experiences. A lifetime of highs and lows to relive for the rest of our time on this shadow side of eternity but he has moved and left a forwarding address.

I sit in the quietude with his presence still lingering. I think about all of the rough days he’s had over the last 8 months, the noises of the machines which were keeping him alive. After we received the phone call we drove over to the hospice house to say our; “Goodbyes.” The room was so still. No beeping, whirring, pumping, dripping, nurses checking in. It was motionless and the silence was deafening. My mother began to fill the atmosphere with soft cries, and soft words to her best friend and lover of the last 40 years. My brother and I standing in the background, witnesses to a heart affair which is rare in this world. Finally, after a few more kisses from her on his hands and cheek, we left all thankful we’d never see that room again and that he had moved on to his permanent address.

And now, we are left to carry on. To occupy a house which isn’t home without him. To learn to adjust to a new normal we didn’t choose. To loosen our grip on this world, this place, because we know home is waiting for us on the other side.